


As a Button

by JamieBenn



Series: The Butt of it [1]
Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - D/s, Authority Figures, Collars, Dom Phil Coulson, Dom/sub, Gangbang, M/M, Public Humiliation, Rough Sex, Sub Clint Barton, non con not clint/phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-03 02:20:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieBenn/pseuds/JamieBenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint takes a test that determines his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Clint looked over at Coulson, and he was somewhat sure that Coulson didn't know it was happening, and that to him, Clint was sitting prettily over at his desk, doing his paper work, even though it never got handed in, and no one ended up caring, because he was the almighty Hawkeye, who cold take them out without even trying.

 

However, Coulson was not the same as everyone else, and it was hard to keep on letting him assume things. Coulson assumed a lot of things, and a lot of the time he got them right, but there was one in particular that Coulson was not getting right, and that the assuming about it needed to stop immediately, or Clint might actually scream some day and walk out of SHIELD for good.

 

Clint, no matter what anyone would tell him, was not submissive. Clint knew about himself. He could tell his own body better than any doctor ever could, and one things that Clint knew was that he was _dominant,_ and that no one had any right to be calling him submissive at any point in time.

 

However, a lot of people had been taking bets behind his back at what he was, and the majority said that he was a submissive. He hated it. He hated being called a submissive when he knew that he wasn't. When he knew that he had never bottomed for anyone in his life. He'd never submitted to anyone's judgements, so why would he be submissive?

 

Coulson, however, Clint knew was dominant. He walked in that certain stance that meant that he was indeed one of the most dominant people on the planet. It was either that, or he'd been copying Fury's stance to make sure that he looked more dominant, but he didn't think that was the truth. He thought that Coulson was the most dominant dominant that you could get, and that it wasn't stretching anything at all.

 

“Agent Barton, are you aware that you have had a mission file sent to your StarkPad?” A woman, that wasn't too bad looking in her skin tight shield uniform confronted him.

 

“A mission! Is there a briefing?”

 

“Yes, Agent Barton. It is right now in Deputy Hill's office.”

 

Clint could tell that the woman was trying her hardest, and figured that she must be new to SHIELD. Well, considering that she walking in that half cocky, shy walk, that most newbies walked with, and that she was using all the correct titles for people when talking to him.

 

“Sure, I'll go, just-- what's your name?”

 

“Agent Baker, sir.”

 

Clint gave her a wink as he walked off towards the briefing.

 

The room seemed different to all the other times that he'd been in it. It didn't seem like this would be any ordinary briefing. It wouldn't be taking out someone with a single arrow, it wouldn't be infiltrating any type of crime gang. No, it would be something different, and Clint had no idea what, which was strange, and he didn't like that feeling.

 

Hill walked into the room, walking with her executive stance, and someone that wasn't exactly what he wanted to see. It was Doctor Newton Wagner, and he specialised in dominant and submissive science. Which meant that there was only one reason for him to really be in the briefing room.

 

It wasn't really a brief. He didn't really have a mission.

 

“Agent Barton--” Hill started, but Barton cut her off.

 

“No, you cannot do that to me, I refuse to be labelled for a reason.” Clint growled.

 

“Fury's orders, Clint.”

 

Clint growled again at Hill's' statement, realising that he actually had no choice.

 

The doctor walked towards him with his pen and paper, and Clint knew that all these things really consisted of was a lot of questions, before the person being tested gained a percentage score that was put on their file forever, could never be removed. They'd be forever marked as dominant, submissive or flexible.

 

~*~

 

“This might come a shock to you,” the doctor began, but Clint just snorted, “Ninety-seven percent.”

 

“Ninety-seven percent what?”

 

“Submissive.”

 

It dawned on him, that he would now be labelled as a submissive forever.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Clint wasn't sure if SHIELD would change anything now that he had a status. He wasn't sure if they'd change his missions, or if they'd change his handler, which he didn't really want because Coulson was a brilliant handler.

 

“Look we've had to change some things,” Coulson said, and Clint had called it, “Mostly which dorm you live in.”

 

Clint breathed in deeply, because if that was all, then he was fine.

 

“You'll be moving to the Sub Hall.” Coulson's face moved up into its trademark sly grin. Clint couldn't help but wonder what was making him smile.

 

Just as Clint was about to ask which dorm he would be staying in, something happened. Clint wasn't sure what, at all, but there were people rushing around everywhere, and Clint didn't want to admit it, but he thought that they were mostly submissives. A few dominants dotted about the place, but most of their stances were only right for a submissive.

 

“What's going on, sir?”

 

“I don't know, Barton. I guess we'll have to find out.” Coulson admitted, his mouth in a downturned position.

 

They joined the rush, but followed with quieter footsteps, and swift movements. They didn't need to look like fools to seek out the information. They just followed the storm of submissives. In various states of dress, from coming out of their dorms. He imagined that they were all getting ready for bed when they were called out to join the crowd.

 

They eventually got to the assembly hall. They didn't know why they were there. The huge room that echoed like nothing else. It was filled to the brim with people, and both Coulson and Clint were confused. They didn't understand why there were so many people being called to assembly, because that never happened, and there were a lot of people in the assembly room, more than normal, and strangely mostly submissives. They could tell by their body movements, mostly.

 

“Everyone calm down!” A deep roar came from the speakers. “Sit down on the floor. Now!”

Submisives dropped almost immediately at the dominant voice. Clint didn't though. He just tapped Coulson's arm as to ask whether he should or shouldn't. He still wondered how he got such a high score on the test, if he wasn't that submissive. If he was that submissive, then wouldn't he be dropping to the floor like all of the others?

 

Coulson gave a nod of approval, so that they could sit on the horrible SHIELD standard blue carpet. Clint felt weird. He hadn't sat with his legs crossed on a low level like he was for years, but he knew not to argue when he spotted Fury standing with a microphone at the front of the room. Eye as angry as ever, and Hill standing almost taller than anyone else in the room because of her fantastic posture.

 

“You may have heard,” Fury roared, “the news from the federal government.”

 

Whispers came from around the room.

 

“Congress has indeed been taking a lot of time deciding on their Submissive and Dominant rights bill, and we have all forgotten that it has been being debated for years, and we have forgotten that it ever really existed.”

 

More whispers, and heads turning.

 

“However, congress has now finished deliberating, and the president has addressed the nation with the new laws.”

 

Fury's frown sunk in even deeper, as the whispers loudened. Clint looked over to Coulson's face, who seemed to be sinking even further into thought.

 

“I thought that I would tell you myself. The rule that is the main section of the bill is this; Submissives must wear collars.”

 

Gasps filled the assembly room. Loud, arguing voices littered the crowd, and Clint sat in shock.

 

First, he'd never even had a status before the test that day, and second, they thought that they'd impose a rule that meant that he was basically a second class citizen. He couldn't believe that the country would do that. Submissive rights? More like submissive slavery. It was absolutely ridiculous.

 

“Each and every submissive that works for SHIELD, must fill in a form that will be given to them by their handler. On these forms, you will state whether you will be wearing a SHIELD collar, or a personal collar, such as one from a partner, or parent. If you quit SHIELD due to this ruling, the government will make you wear either a state or federal collar. You cannot flee the country. Also in the bill, it states that submissives always have to be escorted by a dominant. This includes overseas travel. All overseas passports from SHIELD agents will be frozen for the time being. I'm sorry.”

 

~*~

 

“Look Clint, you have to make your decision.” Coulson told him. Clint had told Coulson that he'd prefer to be an organisation's property than be a particular persons property, but then again, that also meant that anyone with higher clearance than him would technically 'own' him, and that wasn't what he wanted, either.

 

Clint made his decision sporadically. It was the only thing that he could think of. “Coulson. Will you collar me?” Clint shuddered at the words coming from his own mouth.

 

The question made Coulson gasp. He couldn't believe that Clint would ask _him_. They'd worked together for ages. Coulson had always been Clint's handler, and sure, he'd thought about Clint in that way, but that had been before Coulson had known about Clint's status, and there was just a lot of loose ends.

 

“You sure, Clint?”

 

“Absolutely.” The lie came easy to him. Inside, he was continuing to shudder. He reached up to his neck and touched it. Wearing a collar in public _all_ the time? That would be a hell of a lot of weird. Clint wasn't sure that he could handle that, but he guessed that he would have to if he wanted to stay within SHIELD, and he _did_ want to stay within SHIELD. There wasn't many other people that were good people that would be able to utilise his skill set. What would he do? Enter the Olympics? Would he be any good at shooting competitively? Probably not. Actually, he probably would, but he might actually be too good, and he didn't know how he'd go as a submissive out in the world with the new rules.

 

Basically, if he didn't take Coulson's collar, then he was fucked, and goodbye Hawkeye, hello Clint Barton that gets gang raped daily by some fucking douches that can't take no for an answer.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it is so short again because I really wanted it to be longer, but I'll start writing the next one straight away, and hopefully it will be at least 2k :)
> 
> Also, I apologise for the mistakes that I make with writing Americans, because I'm Australian and basically everything over here is English. I already made, and fixed, the mistake of calling Congress, Parliament, so if you do notice mistakes like these in the future, please let me know. Thank you.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously in AS A BUTTON; Politicians of the United States have put through legislation that means submissives MUST be collared.

People often didn't believe Clint, when he told them that he had made a vow only to really kill people for the sake of the human race, the country, or whatever. That he was not that mindless assassin that he was before, any more. So when they asked him to take the test on his dynamic, he did it, because people said that it was for the good of the country, or whatever. That they knew as much about their unknown hero as was possible, so that he couldn't get into trouble.

As he sat through the questions, and the doctor recognised each and every one of his reactions to the questions, both verbal, and physical, he wondered if he was making the wrong decision, but he didn't turn back, because he'd learnt to have trust in people that he worked with. Or tried to have trust with them, because that didn't always work out.

After the day when it was announced that congress had voted on the bill that basically renewed the thought of submissives as second class citizens, Clint had wondered if having the test so close to it was a plan of Fury's. If he wanted to know for that exact reason. If Fury knew that the bill was going to be voted in, so Clint had to get tested in time for it. It was a very plausible reason, indeed.

Agreeing to Coulson's collar was agreeing to being confined by someone that he trusted. It was Coulson, and Clint had known him for a long time, and definitely trusted him. To think that now he would be getting a piece of leather around his neck that told everyone else that shook Clint up a little bit.

Clint had definitely seen porn where the submissive was the one gruelling on the floor. He'd definitely seen porn where they'd been tied up and whipped, and they'd bled. Hell, he'd seen a lot of porn, and he could admit that, and he'd gotten off on a lot of it. However, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to do it in real life. Be that person on the bottom. The person that was definitely not equal to the other person that they were having sex with, or whatever they were doing.

He had thought about it. He'd thought about what it would be like to submit to Coulson. He'd thought about what it would feel like for Coulson to look after him. He thought about it, but it didn't seem like him, and he couldn't believe how wrong that test must have been. The doctor must have been wrong. He must have gotten the scale wrong. Instead of 97, his score had to have been 3, right? Because Clint couldn't help but think that he wasn't submissive at all.

“Barton!” Coulson's voice jaunted Clint from his entrancing thoughts. Bringing him to attention.

Coulson saw Clint coming to attention, and allowed him to gain himself before giving him the order, “Conference room. I need to talk to you without other people being able to hear.”

No one was in the conference room this time. Not like last time, where they'd told him he had to take a test that would determine how everyone in the public would treat him. No, the black table was just as shiny as it was after anyone in the cleaning team got their hands on it. It meant that no one had even been in the room at all that day.

Clint sat his pleather covered bottom down on the plastic chair that was right in front of him. Unlike what he expected, Coulson had not been following him to the conference room, and came in two minutes later, after Clints fingers were already started to ache because he'd been twiddling his thumbs, and pulling on his fingers.

When Coulson entered the room, he was holding something in his hands, and Clint recognised it immediately. It was an inch wide, and about half a metre long. It was a collar, and judging, it was Clint's collar.

Clint felt himself shiver beneath Coulson's gaze as the older man shut the door behind him.

Clint tried to make words come out, but he couldn't, so he looked down, and then he looked up again, Coulson's gaze was more intimidating than it had ever been before, and Clint wasn't expecting the words that would come out of the man's thin mouth.

“Kneel.”

He didn't follow the instruction, and his mouth wasn't obeying him. Muttering gibberish that was actually supposed to be a protest to Coulson's order.

“Kneel.” Coulson repeated. Eyes beginning to fill with something that was a cross between fury and delight.

Clint's body was still frozen as Coulson gripped his arm and pulled him from the chair onto the carpet. He barely even reacted as the push caused him to plant towards the ground, torso first.

“Kneel.” Again.

Clint was pulled onto his knees by the other man, but he didn't look into Coulson's eyes. He looked at the ground. He didn't want to face that intimidation that was created when he looked into the authority figures 'windows to his soul'. 

A finger underneath Clint's chin raised it, making him look towards the dominant.

Coulson told Clint that he would be putting the collar around his neck. Told him that now, he would be Coulson's submissive. That in public, he would be expected to obey every order that was given to him by Coulson. That he would be expected to be that submissive person that everyone expected, but that he wouldn't have to change. Coulson didn't want to lose that great agent that he'd worked for years with. He didn't want Clint to be coddled. He wanted him to be a surprise. No one suspected a submissive was a former assassin.

“And you can call me sir in public, and Phil in private.” 'Phil' told him, whilst patting his head.

Clint shivered, “Yes, Phil.”

“Public means anywhere within shield, Clint. Anybody could be watching.” Phil smiled, walking towards the door again.

“Follow me, then. My lovely sub.” He taunted, gesturing for Clint to up and follow him through the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always welcome. Comments are fantastic, however, don't hate. The only messages that writers like to see are workable critiquing, and joyful thanks. The more reaction, the quicker the update! (also, I apologise for how slow this update was, and that it still wasn't the length that I have been promising).


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Rape. Please do not read this chapter if you find this triggering.

Clint didn't like to look at anyone when he was in public. When he was in public, it was mostly around Coulson, and that meant that he could tell him what to do at any time, and that he would be expected to obey that order. Of course, Coulson wasn't that mean, and didn't give him orders that he would be uncomfortable with, which set Clint a little bit more at ease. 

 

The collar sat heavily around his neck for two weeks after it was placed there. Coulson made several attempts to feel sorry for him, with many “I'm so sorry”s, and enquiring to get a couples room, because technically Clint had to move out of the submissive hall now because he had an dominant.

 

The first time what he had worried about happening, happened, he was walking to the couples dorms, through the cafeteria. People were crowding around each other, and from one group, he saw people point his way. No doubt it was dominants wondering what on earth this submissive was doing walking through there by himself, especially considering that Clint could only see two other submissives in the whole room.

 

They pointed, and they laughed, and they made fun of him. He shouted out to them something along the lines of 'you'll never get a sub if you act like that' and walked off into the distance, hearing more and more laughs as he went.

 

The second time, it was worse, and he didn't really want to tell Coulson, but he knew that he had to because he was his dominant, and he could probably do something about the harassment that Clint was getting. 

 

He walked through the cafeteria, the same as last time, but this time, he was going towards the hangar so that he could find Phil who would be coming in from a mission with their new Russian recruit. It was the same group of people as before. They assumed their stances of laughing and pointing as before. Their index fingers stretched out like nobody's business. Except for the fact that it was somebody's business, because it was Clint's business. They were laughing at _him._

 

They called over to him, and he ignored them. They said things, things that were mostly small comments, like calling him a slut, or a dirty bitch, even a whore. However, one of the bastards grabbed him with their meaty, sausage-like fingers.

 

Clint could have easily gotten rid of up to twenty people, if they didn't have training, and they weren't SHIELD agents, and even if they were fully trained SHIELD agents, he could probably get rid of up to five at once. However, there would have been fifty in the room, and after the first guy grabbed him, another ten put their hands all over him, as though he were their submissive.

 

Two hands grabbed each of his arse cheeks, and another shoved into his hole, pushing, and playing, and trying to get in there, and Clint struggled with all his might, but he was simply just not strong enough for the men that were holding him down letting more men try and rape him.

 

He clenched his arse, hoping that it would be enough for nothing to be able to get through, but a finger kept poking, and poking at the muscle, trying to get in there. His bum was beginning to ache from clenching it so tight, and that combined with the finger, and a new-found grip on his hair, were making him think that he wouldn't be able to hold it much longer.

 

Why wasn't somebody getting _someone?_ They were a department of the fucking government, and people were gang raping him right there, and nobody gave a shit. There were subs looking on at what was going on, and he could see it in their eyes that they didn't like what was happening, but they didn't go tell a superior. They just sat there, viewing and thanking god that it wasn't them in that position.

 

Clint had taken himself to closing his eyes so that he could not see the horrible people, and what they were trying to do to him. He felt two hands join the others on his body by touching his sides, and then he felt something pressing against his lips, and knew immediately what it was.

 

It was barely even the fact that they were doing this to him – that they were raping him in the middle of the cafeteria, but the fact that they were penetrating him before even Phil had. Before his own dominant had even gotten his hands on him.

 

“Open, slut.” A voice commanded, and he felt a penis press harder against his lips, attempting to gain entrance, and succeeding when Clint let out a very unintentional moan as a second finger was pushed into his anus, hurting like hell.

 

Clint had seen enough porn to know that it was all completely fake, and he'd seen enough porn to know that penises actually taste revolting. This situation was not excluded from that fact. Whoever had shoved their penis within Clint's mouth seemed like they hadn't cleaned themselves down there in something like months.

 

Clint was trapped in the position. Fingers were running up and down his body, and several decided that getting him involuntarily hard would be the best for his self esteem. However, it wasn't, and it just made him flush red as the man who was fucking him in the face sped up.

 

He could feel the fact that the person fingering his arse used some kind of lubrication – probably spit, because he added a third finger, and it went in a little more smoothly. But hell, it still fucking hurt.

 

He could feel the fingers stretching him open. Could feel them making his hole bigger so someone would be able to rape him with their actual penis. But then the fingers retracted quickly, and he unconsciously whined around the cock in his mouth, that was beginning to be pulled out too.

 

All the hands that had been upon him began removing themselves, and much faster than he would like. He didn't really want them on him in the first place, but to go from being touched like that to not touched at all, so quickly, was a little bit shocking.

 

“...ton... Age... Bar...” Clint heard the blurred noise of Agent Coulson, or at least, he thought it was Agent Coulson, but he couldn't exactly be quite sure on that count when he was collapsed in a heap on the mess hall floor.

 

As Clint's sight de-blurred, he finally recognised the face that was indeed Coulson, and let out a whined 'help' before passing out.


	5. Chapter 5

Clint woke up, his mind foggy, and bright lights cloudy in his vision. He could hear muffled noises. People's voices. He couldn't tell who they were. But, in hoping that one of them was Coulson, he softly whispered “Sir...”

 

Clint blinked a couple of time, clearing his vision. He turned to the side, seeing legs right next to his bed. Suited legs. He breathed out. He knew who this was. It was his handler. It was Coulson. He breathed a sigh of relief.

 

“Barton.” The voice came from the other side of the room. It wasn't Coulson, Clint knew. In fact, it was Fury, he knew. The deep mellow voice was just dominant enough to be Fury. Clint realised that he was suppressing some of his dominance to make Clint comfortable. “You are going home with Coulson for a week. Short term leave.”

 

Clint sat up a bit too quickly, his head spinning. “Sir?”

 

Fury narrowed his eyes. “He is your dominant, and in circumstances of leave, SHIELD rules require that you must stay with him. He is having some short term leave, too.”

 

“Thank you, sir.” His eyes turned to Coulson. “When are we leaving, sir?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be continuing Coulson and Clint's story in a second installment of this series.


End file.
